ArrowCake
by Kasey22
Summary: Felicity jumps out of a cake and gets Oliver's thoughts going. Rated M for what happens next. Not beta'd so please be gentle.


A/N: Love the Olicity Fandom and started to think about what would happen if Oliver saw Felicity in a new light - say jumping out of a cake for instance. Arrow Cake was the name I gave it thinking I'd come up with something better later on. Then I finished the story and really still liked Arrow Cake. I own nothing but the story idea.

xoxox

Felicity sucked in her breath and tried to make herself as small as possible. She really had to stop saying yes when Hillary asked her for favors. One of her oldest friends in the world, Hillary owned Starling Parties, the best party planning company in the city. When it was still just a fledgling start-up, Felicity had helped out, working for cash however she could, and that covered a lot of territory. Now that she had what amounted to two full-time jobs, though, she didn't have time for this kind of thing anymore.

Which is what she'd meant to tell Hillary when she'd called yesterday.

"But you're the best blonde I have!" Hillary had whined over the phone.

"What does that even mean?"

"You look killer in the outfit and you're smart enough not to turn this into something it's not."

Ah, yes, the outfit. The silver sequined mini-dress with spaghetti straps that wrapped around her neck and had no back to speak of. It was a good thing she was naturally perky because there was no way to wear a bra with the dress and though she'd investigated taping herself for some extra support, she'd refused on principle.

Now, once again, she was crouched in the center a fake cake, being wheeled into the living room of a birthday boy.

She'd put in her contacts at home and teased her hair into long golden curls that spilled down her back and over her shoulders. The fake lashes made her eyes huge and the slutty red lipstick gave her mouth such a pout that she knew exactly what Hillary was talking about when she alluded to turning the event into "something it's not". More than one girl had been let go for making a little extra on the side at events like this.

The cake had stopped moving and Felicity readied herself to pop out just at the right minute. The guests were singing Happy Birthday and she knew from experience that her cue was when they got to the last word of the last line.

xoxo

Oliver had never been so bored in his life. What was he even doing here? He hadn't wanted to come to this stupid birthday party to begin with, didn't even know the guy whose party it was. But Tommy had twisted his arm. David, a friend of a friend who was recently divorced had decided to go big for his 40th and "it was going to be insane, bro." And it was. The party was in full swing by the time someone wheeled out the most enormous cake he'd ever seen. People were jostling for a better look and drunkenly staggering past him to get more champagne. He edged closer to the exit but couldn't really push through the crowd. And then the singing.

Do people really still sing Happy Birthday for adults? The last birthday he'd celebrated had been right before he and his father and Sarah had...no, no dwelling on the past right now. He joined in as the song was coming to an end. Just as the crowd was lingering on the words, "happy birthday tooooo youuuuuuuu," there was a pop! at the front of the room and suddenly a girl was jumping out of the cake, arms held aloft as if to say, "ta-da!" as the crowd oohed and aahed and applauded.

Oliver squinted his eyes, sure they were playing tricks on him. He could have sworn the girl wearing just a scrap of sequined silver looked exactly like...Felicity? Someone was helping her down out of the cake and people backed up, giving her room as she proceeded to serenade the birthday boy, Marilyn Monroe-style. Her breathy moans made her version of "Happy Birthday" decidedly illicit. What in the HELL was she doing? Did she work as a stripper in her off-hours? Did she even HAVE off-hours?

Moving closer to her he couldn't take his eyes off her cleavage. She'd gotten to the part of the song that went, "Happy birthday, Mr. President," and she'd leaned in, one hand on David's arm, another on his chest, her big eyes innocent and sultry all at once. Oliver felt himself respond.

Dammit, this was Felicity, girl computer wiz. She wasn't supposed to be sexy. What in the hell was going on? She'd finished now and the crowd was giving her a huge round of applause. Demurely she kissed David on the cheek and began to back away toward the kitchen.

Still a little bit shocked but with irrational anger growing, Oliver pushed his way more forcefully through the crowd, narrowed eyes trained on Felicity Megan Smoak. Before he'd even gotten close, though, he could see that she was outnumbered by a crowd of men who'd come up to get a closer look. He heard their voices before he reached them.

A stout balding man touched the small of her back - which was bare! - and let his palm linger there before drifting lower, half into the back of her dress, while he blathered on about her talent and his agency. She kept trying to sidestep him but she didn't have much room to maneuver.

David, the birthday boy, held her left hand in his and though Oliver could see she was clearly trying to extricate herself he wasn't having it.

Another man, very tall, was blatantly leering down the front of her dress, big smile in place.

"Gentlemen!" Oliver boomed as he arrived on the scene. "I see you've met my girlfriend!"

"Whaa-?" All but the tall leerer took an involuntary step backwards.

"Isn't she amazing?" Oliver went on, smooth smile in place. He could tell from the heat rising up from her cleavage to her eyebrows she had not seen him before now and she was mortified. He slung a casual arm around her shoulders and dropped a kiss at her temple, as easily as if he'd been doing it for years. "The Marilyn impression is dead-on, am I right?" He'd angled her away from them and they continued backing away toward to the kitchen. "Happy birthday, Dave! See you around!"

xoxo

Oh, FUCK, was all Felicity could think as Oliver - Oliver of all people! - scuttled her out of the dining room and into the kitchen with the rest of the staff. She was humiliated. He knew her as the whip-smart computer geek who could hack anything, anywhere, anytime. And now he would know the truth. It wasn't a terrible truth, not like the stuff the other girls had gotten fired over, but still. She was wearing practically nothing and she'd just jumped out of a cake for money.

"That was quite a performance," he growled.

"Thank you," she replied, trying to maintaining just a tiny bit of dignity.

"I had no idea you were an adult entertainer on the side." His eyes swept down her body, taking in every inch of exposed creamy flesh.

That got her back up. "Excuse me?" she huffed, the air fairly crackling between them. "I'm not a stripper, and I'm not a whore, so you can wipe that look off your face. It was a favor for a friend." She turned and walked over to the window seat where she'd left her duffle bag.

"A friend? What friend?" Oliver followed her, the look on his face now more bewildered than disapproving.

"I have friends outside of work," she replied.

"Fine," he said. Oliver's voice had softened but he eyes were still glittery and hard.

"Thank you," she replied, swallowing hard. "Now, I need to change clothes and then I'm heading home."

"Can I give you a lift?" It was a peace offering though inside he was still furious. Not that he could figure out why.

"I can take a cab." Felicity was pouting and she knew it but at this moment nothing made her happier than saying no to Oliver Queen.

"A lift would be faster and safer."

"Cabs are safe, besides you and Digg have been training me. I'll be fine."

Oliver tried not to think about how fine she'd be. He tried not to think about much he wanted her to change into something that wouldn't make him want to rip it off her body. He paused for a millisecond, wondering if there was such a thing anymore.

"Are you sure? I was getting ready to leave anyway."

Felicity thought about how easy it would be to get a cab at this time of night and in this neighborhood and she gave in. "Okay, fine. I'll be right back," she told him softly.

When she returned fifteen minutes later, the only remains of her evening's work was her hair and make up. The dress had been replaced with worn jeans and a soft, gray, long-sleeved t-shirt. On her feet, an old pair of pink Chucks.

To his eternal shame, he admitted to himself that he absolutely wanted to rip it all off her body.

In the car, she rode in silence for several minutes before she asked the obvious, "No driver tonight?"

"Digg is with Carly and I wanted to fly under the radar as much as possible." She nodded silently and looked at his profile again. "Are you still pissed?"

"No, of course not."

"Why the silent treatment then?"

"I'm not, I wasn't! I didn't mean to give you the silent treatment. Honestly, it's a lot to take in. You looked…totally different in that dress. I can't believe you do those things alone. Those guys were not going to just let you leave, I mean, you know that, right? Mr. Baldy practically had his hand down the back of your skirt!" Oliver sucked in a deep breath, dazed and confused at this outburst. He had NOT planned to say any of that. He hadn't really even wanted to think those things.

"I can take care of myself," Felicity repeated cooly.

"Right," he scoffed.

"You don't think I can?"

"What was your plan for getting outta there?"

"Accept a drink, spill it down someone's front, run to get towels from the kitchen, never come back."

"That's assuming they were going to get you a drink." He was so close to being angry again.

"Trust me," Felicity replied, a touch smug, "they wanted to get me drunk."

"Unacceptable!" he growled. Something else he hadn't meant to say out loud.

She ignored him and watched the headlights on the road. Oliver glowered through the windshield. He couldn't tell if he was upset that she'd deliberately put herself in an unsafe situation or if it was because so many of those fat, balding old men had oogled her and touched her. She wasn't his property, obviously, but he felt uncharacteristically protective of her and at the same time, he wished she'd jump out of a cake for him. Wearing much less than she'd worn tonight. God help him.

This was Felicity! He couldn't all of a sudden have the hots for Felicity. It was indecent. She was too good and pure to be objectified like this by anyone, especially him. Most especially by those old pervs at the party but definitely him too.

"I know I have no right and I know this sounds absurd but I really don't want you to do that anymore," he blurted out.

She gaped at him, speechless for a moment. "Wha-... Are you… Who do you think…"

"I know," Oliver said as he pulled up outside her apartment. "I already said I have no right. I'm sorry."

"You're not my father, and despite the lie you told tonight, you're not my boyfriend. I can do whatever I want with my body." She knew she could have ended the sentence without those last three words but she was back to pouting and she enjoyed watching the muscles in his jaw clench. He was freaking jealous. That had to be it.

"Felicity-" he began, but she cut him off. "I'll see you at work on Monday." And with that she was through the car door and halfway up the walk. It had started sprinkling and he watched her dodge raindrops until she made it through the front door. Perfect, he thought. That went really well.

xoxoxo

Felicity had just lowered herself into a tub of steaming, bubbly water when her mobile rang. Normally she would have ignored it but it was Oliver's ringtone, Queen of Hearts (God help her if he ever discovered she'd given him that ringtone), so she reached one soapy arm to the vanity and hit speaker. "I'm so glad you called," she said without preamble. "I was thinking about going to the movies tomorrow but the one I wanted to see is rated R. Would that be okay with you?"

"Thanks for answering," he replied, ignoring her sarcasm and getting right to the point. "That mutual friend we made at the party earlier, David. He's just invited us to his house party next weekend."

"What are you talking about?" Felicity was genuinely confused, something that didn't happen often.

"Apparently, it's all the rage among the rich lately. Downton Parties, they're called, though I don't get why. We go to his country house for the weekend and we ride and shoot and eat and drink and I told him we were together when I...interrupted your...performance and he's just invited us." Leave it to Oliver not to know what Downton Abbey was.

"You can send my regrets."

"Normally I would but I just found his name in the book."

"Oh, come on!" She hit the surface of the water in frustration. He cleared his throat, which meant that he had to have heard it.

"I know. I'm sorry. Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Soaking in the tub, actually," she said spitefully. If he really was jealous this would be perfect. "Pretty sore from jumping out of the cake. Needed to take a nice, hot, soapy bath."

Silence.

"Are you still there?"

"I'm here," his voice sounded tight.

"So what's the plan?"

"We go undercover as a couple. I'll find a time to search his office, if I find the evidence we need I'll confront him."

"Boy, now that does sound like a party." The anger was leaving her, seeping away with the rest of the tension from the day. She sighed. "I guess I'm in."

"Thanks. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry." His voice had softened. "I've never in my life acted like such a caveman and I really hope you'll forgive me."

Okay, well now she was melting inside. "Forgiven and forgotten," she said softly.

"See you," he said.

"See you," she replied.

xoxoxox

The following Saturday found them in his car once again, this time packed for a weekend getaway.

"I seriously cannot believe you've never heard of Downton Abbey."

"How would I have heard of it?"

"Don't you EVER watch TV? Or read the entertainment section of the newspaper?"

"No."

"You're hopeless," Felicity told him with fake concern in her voice for his well-being.

"That's a bit strong, don't you think? Hopeless?"

She gave him a speculative look. "Maybe. Fill me in on the plan again."

Oliver walked her through the weekend again and by the time they were pulling up at the front steps of David's country house they felt ready to go. The thing that stopped Felicity cold was when the servant (footman? butler? who could tell?) showed them upstairs and opened their bedroom door. THEIR bedroom door. Inside was a beautifully appointed room with mahogany furniture, heavy silken drapes and a massive king size bed.

How did it not occur to her that they'd be sharing a bed? Oliver didn't skip a beat as he dropped his bag and walked to the window, noting all exits and opening all doors (closet, bathroom) as he went. Felicity pulled her roller bag further into the room and tried to think of something to say. Suddenly her mouth was so dry.

"This should be fine," Oliver said, almost to himself. He was peering out the window and absently rubbing his chin with the first two fingers of his right hand. "According to the plans Digg was able to find, David's office isn't too far away, and once everyone's gotten good and drunk tonight," he threw her a meaningful look - it was her job to get David sauced, "I should be able to get in there and go through his files. Once I've got hard evidence against him I'll take him down."

"Take him down," Felicity repeated.

"I can't do anything until I know for sure," he replied, still almost to himself, "and he doesn't keep any of his records in his company's database. So they must all be here. If he's been slapping together affordable housing with glue and paper clips, and then charging rents way more than affordable. He's gonna pay for it. The Glades deserves better."

"Right. Agreed," Felicity said, still unable to focus on anything but the bed. She glanced at her watch and gave a start. Dinner was in twenty minutes and it was a full-on formal event. Time to get dressed. Forcing the bed from her mind, she slung her bag up onto the...bed...and unzipped. Her dress wasn't too wrinkled but she hung it in the bathroom and turned the hot water on in the shower just in case.

By the time she got back to it, her lips were big and red again, her hair tumbled down her back in loose curls and her fake eyelashes were perfectly in place. She closed the bathroom door, turned off the water, and slipped into the fire-engine red dress. It was another low-cut number with a straight skirt that had a slit from her ankle to well above her knee and, again, a seriously low cut back. David had been so enamoured at his birthday party she'd decided to once again use skin to get his attention. She just hoped it wasn't too much for Oliver.

As she stepped from the steamy bathroom and found her shoes she nonchalantly found him in the room with the corner of her eye. He was openly gaping at her. "Seriously?" he growled.

"What?" she replied innocently.

"What? Really? I don't...I can't believe this is what you're wearing."

"Look, he really responded last time so I thought this would be a good way to get his attention so I can get him drunk and then you can work your magic. What's the big deal?"

Oliver clenched his fists and his jaw but did not answer. Instead, he shot his cuffs, straightened his tie and opened the door for her.

xoxoxo

Hours later, Felicity stumbled along a corridor of the house no where remotely close to her own, under the weight of a completely intoxicated David, who was trying vainly to stumble along beside her.

"You know he's no good fah you, right?" he slurred against her ear.

"He's not so bad."

"He did nothing but glare at you all night. Not a civil word outta his mouth. If you were my girl I'd treat you like gold. I'd never let you out of my sight. I'd worship your body with…" here he lost his train of thought and Felicity cringed at the thought of Oliver listening in over the comlink they were both wearing.

"Nice," came Oliver's voice in her ear, just as she'd expected.

Before Felicity could reply to either of the disgruntled men David took a deep breath and pinned her against the wall in a last-ditch attempt to feel her up before he vomited, passed out, or both.

"You are so beautiful," he breathed hotly in her face, letting one hand roam up and into the slit of her skirt, roughly cupping her bottom, while the other stroked the soft skin of her neck.

"Thank you," she replied, trying to squirm out of his grasping fingers and get him moving again. The hand that had been at her neck just moments ago was dipping lower, to her collarbone, to the very top her cleavage. "So beautiful."

"Let's get you to bed, okay? You don't look so good." She did not want to bring the kung-fu and if she removed him forcibly he might get mad and disrupt Oliver's plans. On the other hand, getting assaulted wasn't top most on her list of things to do tonight.

"I hope you don't mind me getting a little fresh," he whispered as he gently squeezed her breast, dragging his thumb across her nipple. She could feel a full-on chub pressed tight against her leg. "You have the most beautiful body. All I want to spend a little more time with you. He never needs to know."

"Are you kidding me?" Oliver snapped in her ear.

"We have to get to your room first, honey," she told David silkily, ignoring Oliver.

"Nah, baby," David was openly groping her now, slobbering his way up and down her neck, "all the guest rooms are on the other side of the house. This wing is completely deserted until morning. Sweet Jesus, you have the best tits," he finished as he buried his face in her cleavage and attempted to motorboat.

"What the FUCK is going on?" Oliver again. Felicity ignored him.

"You're so sweet to notice," she cooed to David. "But I'm not an up-against-the-wall kind of girl. So let's find your room, okay?" David looked slightly defeated until he realized what she was saying. If he could get to his room, he could have her.

"Okay," he agreed, openly adjusting his hard-on with one hand, planting a messy kiss on her mouth, taking her upper arm with the other and heading further down the hall.

"I swear to God, Felicity if he…" Oliver must not have been able to finish the thought because all she could hear was sputtering.

"You're wasting time," she replied in a sing-songy voice both to Oliver and David, who tried to speed up but tripped over his feet and hit the floor in a face-plant of epic proportions. Unfortunately, he took her down with him and she ended up in a tangled heap on the floor, his hands still roaming inappropriately over her body as he giggled over his own clumsiness.

And then he was snoring. It only took her a minute to get out from under him but when she'd finally extracted herself (ripping her dress in the process) she rolled over next to him, breathing hard from the effort. "He's out," she whispered to Oliver.

"About bloody time."

"How was I supposed to know he could hold his liquor like a frat boy starting his sixth year of college?"

"Where are you."

"South wing. Hallway."

"Hallway?"

"He passed out. I'm a lot of things but strong enough to carry him with no help to his room is not one of them."

"Okay. Leave him there and get gone. I'll meet up with you when I'm done here. Still no sign of security?"

"None." It had been the one weird thing about the whole mission. Very rarely did people in the book not have some kind of security detail. Could David really be that cocksure about his ability to fly under the radar?

"Good. See you back at the room."

"See you," she replied, getting to her feet and hoping like hell she'd be able to find her way back.

xoxoxo

It was two am before she finally slipped into her room, only to discover Oliver already there. It had taken much longer than she'd thought to navigate the house but she had not expected him to beat her there. Her shoes were in one hand, her hair was a rumpled mess, her lipstick had been sloppily kissed off and she discovered that the rip in her dress had opened the slit even further so that it now went up to her rib cage. She felt utterly deflated and she hoped that it hadn't all been for nothing.

"Well?" they both said at the same time.

"Well what?" Felicity fired back. "You well."

"I have no well. The files were clean. Now you well." He'd changed into flannel pajama bottoms and a soft-looking t-shirt.

"I repeat, well what?"

"You look like you just made out with someone in a hallway."

"Hmmm, forgive my silly memory but wasn't that the plan?"

"I know, I just…" he clenched his jaw so that she could see the muscles working.

"Look it wasn't a picnic if that's what you wanna hear," she told him.

"No?" The look of hopefulness on his face made her insides go soft.

"No." she replied gently, tossing her shoes into a corner. The movement cause her ventilated dress to expose black panties.

"What the hell?" Immediately, Oliver was angry again. In two strides he was almost on top of her, hands at the ripped seams of her dress. "What the hell did he do to you?"

"Nothing," she said putting her hands over his, pushing him away. He was too close. She couldn't think when he was this close. He smelled too good.

"This isn't nothing," he argued, taking a half step back. She swallowed and said, "He was...eager...to get to his room and he tripped and fell and took me down with him. Then he passed out. It ripped as I was getting up."

Oliver continued to eye her suspiciously but said nothing more.

xoxoxo

The bed turned out to be a non-issue. Oliver dropped a pillow and a light blanket on the floor without a word and she watched him lie down wishing that she weren't going to be completely alone in the big bed. David's groping hadn't been fun but it had reminded her that she was a woman and she had needs. In the bathroom she pulled on an oversized t-shirt, took off her make up and brushed out her hair. Why, oh, why did Oliver have to turn her on so much? It really wasn't fair.

As she settled into the deep mattress and down comforter she wondered if she could very, very quietly do a little groping of her own. Then she dismissed the idea out of hand. She knew she couldn't be quiet and if she couldn't make noise the distraction of keeping her noises to herself would prevent concentration and then what was the point?

It's too bad we can't have amnesia, just for tonight, Felicity thought as she drifted off.

And then she was walking down that same hallway from earlier, but it wasn't David pulling her along it was Oliver. And he was smiling and nuzzling her neck every few feet, skimming his knuckles over her lower back, stealing kisses and looking adorable.

He pressed her up against the wall and kissed her deeply, pulling the straps of her dress down until she was naked from the waist up. He dropped kisses along her neck as his hands gently cupped her breasts, squeezing them until she moaned. She pulled his body closer to hers, opening her legs, feeling how hard he was. He was kissing her again as she made short work of his belt and he pushed her dress up and her panties down. Felicity most definitely was an up-against-the-wall kind of girl if the guy was right. She moaned again and she took the length of him into her hand and felt him suck in his breath.

"Felicity? Felicity! Are you okay?"

No, no, no. This wasn't happening. She was pulled from the dream and left wet and hot and unhappy. Felicity opened her eyes, trying to wake up and right her breathing.

"Oliver?"

"You were moaning. It sounded like a bad dream. Are you okay?"

Holy Christ, no she was not okay. He stood over her, framed in the moonlight coming in through the window. And then she saw her chance. It was devious and more than a little dangerous but in that moment she didn't care. Half asleep, with drowsy eyes and mussed hair she said, "I have bad dreams sometimes. Would you stay with me?" Even as she said the words she never in a million years thought he'd fall for the little lost lamb routine.

But he did. "Sure, of course," he replied as he slid in beside her.

"You're the best, Oliver," she told him, meaning it. He settled down on his side of the bed, and she settled down on hers, curled up into a ball, facing him, trying to inhale as much of his scent as she could as she waited for him to fall asleep. The problem was that she was warm and cozy and sleepy herself and she had no way of not falling asleep too.

And then she was back up against the wall, and Oliver was on his knees before her, with his mouth pressed against her sex, using his tongue in ways that made her shudder over and over again. She squeezed her own breasts and felt her knees go weak as one last climax broke over her and she fell to the ground with him under her.

Oliver awoke to the strangest sensation. He was hot all over, and he had a raging hard-on. Which was embarrassing enough when you were sharing a bed with a colleague, particularly a colleague who made him want to rip off her clothes. She was sound asleep, with one hand under his shirt and the other between his legs. How had he rolled onto his side? His plan had been to sleep on his back all night. "Felicity," he whispered. Nothing. This was not good. She would be furious if she ever found out that he hadn't put a stop to this. "Felicity," he said a bit louder. "Mmmm," she moaned as her hand found him. She was asleep. She had to be. She wasn't even cupping him just rubbing, rubbing, God, the incessant rubbing. He really, really needed to put a stop to it. If he didn't he would most certainly come in his pants.

He tried clearing his throat. Nothing. Finally, with great regret, he pulled her hand off of him and rolled back over onto his back. She settled in against his side, still completely asleep. Then she moaned again and Oliver thought he might lose his mind.

And then he thought about the moans that had awoken him earlier. She'd said they were bad dreams but… "Touch me," she muttered, still asleep. "I need you. Oliver, please."

Dragging a ragged breath from deep inside his chest Oliver scrubbed his hands up and down his face. Holy shit. She was clearly having a sex dream and it was clearly about him. Her hips jutted against him three times, in rhythm, then stopped. "Make me come. I need to come," she whispered against his side before her hand found it's way into his lap again.

"Jesus!" he yelped, slapping her hand away. He heard her take in a sharp breath as she woke up. "Oliver? Is everything okay?"

"Uh-huh," he replied, swallowing hard.

"Do you have enough room?"

"Yep."

"Okay. G'night." She rolled over so that her back was to him and he waited until her breathing was deep and even before he relaxed again.

And then he was on his back, in this bed, and his hands were threaded through Felicity's hair as it spread out like a golden corona on his naked lap. Her mouth was hot and wet and she was doing things with her tongue that made him want to weep. She made a sucking noise with her mouth and he bit his lip to keep from coming all over her. It seemed to go on and on until he couldn't take it anymore and he knew that he was going to let loose if she didn't let up.

She moaned again, and he woke with a start. Her bottom was pressed tight against his hard front, she'd threaded her legs into his, and his hand was under her big t-shirt cupping her breasts, first one, then the other, rubbing and squeezing as she rocked her pelvis back against his.

"Holy shit," he whispered, pulling his hand back and resting it against her bare ribcage.

"Don't stop," she breathed, turning in his arms and pressing her mouth against his, pushing him onto his back and climbing atop him. He'd never know what made him do it, maybe he was still half asleep, but he followed her instructions and didn't stop. He kissed her back and pulled her t-shirt over her head and sucked on her nipples and tried not to think about what this would do to their friendship, their working relationship.

When she pulled his pants down and took just the tip of him into her mouth he thought he might explode. Because of the dream it felt like she'd been going down on him for hours already and even just the tiniest bit more would be too much and he'd miss this opportunity.

Oliver took her upper arms in his hands, dragged her up to him and flipped them over so expertly that all at once she was on her back and he was nestled between her thighs. He gently pulled her panties off while she writhed and moaned at how slowly he was going about things. He knew she was close but he couldn't resist and he put his face to her wetness and tasted. Just as he'd hoped, she bucked for him and he knew he would never be satisfied, never get enough of her.

Without another thought, he pressed into her and she was so slick and hot and tight that he was afraid he would come right then. "Jesus!" he gasped. Slow down, he thought to himself. Slow down because there might not ever be a second time. The thought gave him pause and he felt a stab of pain and sadness. He needed for there to be a second time.

"Oh, God," Felicity moaned as his strokes became more rhythmic and frantic. Her fingernails dug into his back as she exploded over and over again. Her body was slick with sweat, the way his always was when he worked out. "Yes, Oliver, yes!" she cried.

And then it was too late. He couldn't control it anymore and dozens of stars were exploding behind his eyes and he was falling and kissing her perfect white shoulders, neck, mouth.

And then reality hit him. Holy fuck. What had he been thinking? He pulled away and rolled onto his back again. He hadn't even used protection! What the FUCK had he been thinking? She rolled into another little ball and snuggled against him. "That was...so much better than I thought it would be," she murmured. Which caught him off guard.

"You've been thinking about that?"

"Almost constantly since I first met you. You're pretty easy on the eyes, you know."

"We shouldn't have...we didn't use protection...how will we work together after this?"

"I'm on the Pill and I'm clean so as long as you're clean we're good," she said, starting to fall back asleep.

"But what about working together?"

"Call it a fringe benefit?"

"Be serious. I can't get close to anyone, especially not someone I actually care about."

"I hate that," Felicity sighed, waking up again. "Can't we just have tonight? One night. No one ever has to know." She let the flat of her palm slide across his muscled belly and she could feel his sharp intake of breath.

"That goddamned cake," he whispered, giving in to her clever fingers and warm, sweet body.


End file.
